


Survivors

by Geonn



Category: Firefly, Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Comfort Sex, Crossover, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Serenity, Stranger Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-09
Updated: 2012-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-30 21:05:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A person in the grip of grief can find all kinds of comfort in a bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Survivors

When I first noticed her, I thought she was only a few years older than me. As the bar emptied out and I paid closer attention it became clear that she was much, much older than she looked. Her eyes gave it away. Her eyes were ancient. You couldn't fake that kind of hurt and sorrow. I paid for her next drink and she thanked me with a sad smile and a toast. She told me her name was Helen, and I told her mine was Zoe. We moved toward each other, just a single stool between us, and we drank in silence.

She wore a leather tunic with short sleeves, and I saw the last row of a tattoo on her left arm. I asked to see it and she obliged. Names in pale blue ink circled her bicep, trailing down toward her wrist. The names at the top were so faded as to be almost unreadable, but it seemed some of them had been redone. Amelia, Dorothy, Alan T, Nigel, Barney, Clark, George H, James, Ashley, Big Guy, John, William, Henry, Kate. The names marched on. I brushed them with my fingers and she didn't seem to mind. I read every name I could see without her lifting her arm; I felt I owed it to her.

It was obvious that most of the names had been done by different artists. One hand had done the first large block, and then others added on in an imitated way. At the end was a fresh addition: Cleotilde.

"Sorry for your loss." It was mediocre at best, but she accepted it with grace. After a moment I took my hand away from her inked flesh. "I lost someone too. My husband."

"Tell me about him."

I felt ridiculous telling this woman about my singular loss, but soon the words were pouring out of me like I'd twisted a tap. I didn't even tell the Captain about how I was really aching, but this woman knew. She had been through it more than any human being had a right to. And she listened. Even though her pain was a thousandfold more than mine, she listened and offered sincere sympathy when I finally ran out of breath.

Later we were forced out of the bar by the owner. We walked the dusty streets of Hera's capital and fell into silence. I could see the ship at the docks, but I didn't feel like going back. I asked Helen if she had a place we could continue our conversation and she simply nodded. She put her hand on my elbow to guide me, and soon we were in a slightly wealthier part of town. She led me to a narrow three story adobe building with wooden stairs clinging to one side. 

Her room was on the top floor. There was no discussion or hesitation once we were inside; she turned to me and I welcomed her kiss. I'd fought the needs and desires that occasionally cropped up. I'd even thought of taking advantage of Inara's services once or twice when the nights got cold. But this here, now, right now, felt right. It felt like it wasn't just time, but it was the right person. Her hand dropped down my side, her index finger hooked in the rawhide strap of my trousers. I let her loosen it with her fingernails, and our hands worked together to push them down my legs.

She knelt in front of me and I leaned against the door as she ran her hands over my body. Her thumbs fit perfectly in my hips, her fingers kneading the flesh just forward of my ass, and I rocked my hips toward her as she kissed the dark hair between my legs. I hissed and put my hands on her shoulders, and she tenderly stroked me with just the tip of her tongue. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the door, my fingers stroking her neck when they weren't trembling against her shoulders.

My climax was shocking. Since I'd been alone, I'd tried getting to it myself with my own two hands but I always failed. I'd basically accepted that part of me had died along with my husband, but apparently it had just been sleeping. Helen, this stranger, woke it up again. I tried to push her away but she wouldn't budge. I was gasping, too sensitive, and her fingers stroked me to a second orgasm in a matter of seconds.

I may have sobbed, may have lost my ability to stand up, but her arms went around me and held me steady. I bent my knees and drew her between my legs as I sank down. Her lips brushed my breasts through my shirt and then she tilted her head up to mine. We kissed and I tasted myself on her mouth. I pushed my hands into her hair and leaned against her, pushing her down onto the floor.

Helen let me undress her, kissing her at odd spots like the inside of her elbows and the back of her knee. I kissed each of her toes in turn, and then straddled her right leg. She sat up and put her arms around my waist and we kissed as I settled my weight against hers. She closed her eyes and bared her teeth at the first contact, then soon we were eagerly meeting each other's thrusts. She cupped my breasts, pinching my nipples between her middle and forefingers. 

After her first orgasm and my third, I rolled to one side. Her eyes were closed and her lips parted, and I moved a hand between her legs. I watched her expression change as I touched her. I watched her skin flush pink, and her nipples tightened. I lifted my head and took one into my mouth, sucking it in a rhythm that matched the movement of my fingers. Her hand cupped the back of my head as she came again, and I kissed up the curve of her chest to the hollow of her throat to her lips.

We kissed for a long time and then I pulled away and laid my head on her chest. I could hear the drum of her heart and closed my eyes to follow its rhythm. The heart was a muscle like any other. It could be strong as hell one day, and the next it could start to atrophy. Sometimes it just needed a little workout to remember to do its job.

I kissed Helen's skin and she wrapped her arms around me. The pain of my loss wasn't gone, and I knew hers wasn't either. But for the moment, I like to think it was a little easier to bear.


End file.
